A/N: Another simple one-shot. I figured Remus' birthday deserved two stories, and so there shall be. This was also written for rtchallenge, the prompt was tear (I think!). Just a sort of introspective look on the beginnings of Tonks and Remus' relationship. Sort of a 'how she fell for him' deal.

In case you were unaware, this is fanfic. At Meaning I didn't create this guys, some genius woman in Scotland who owns my soul did.


Tonks didn't cry. Not in general, at least, and rarely at all over the last several years. Sure, as a child she'd cried. When Sirius had torn the head off of her favourite doll, she'd cried. When her mother had refused to buy her a Hobgoblins t-shirt when she was eight, she'd cried. When she'd lost the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor her fourth year, she'd cried.

Since then, though, her tears came few and far between, and never in front of others. When she'd been stressing out during Auror training, determined her stupid two left feet were going to fail her, she locked herself in her room and buried her face in her pillow before she'd let her true emotions show. On the surface, she was a bright and bubbly ball of energy, the kind of girl everyone wanted to have around. No one knew that sometimes, when the Order became more fearful than an adventure, she locked herself in the loo and let herself sob. That wasn't the Tonks she wanted people to see.

He saw through her, though. Always did. Asked constantly if she was all right when she was feeling down. How he always knew, she couldn't tell. It was one of the things that drew her to him, though. His ability to read her, despite her attempts to shy away. It almost frightened her, the way he could see through her with those wide, amber coloured eyes.

The first time he caught her crying, she'd tried to brush it off as an allergy. It had been a horrible day. It was raining, and she'd stepped in more than her fair share of puddles. Scrimgeour was irritated with the exhaustion she seemed to be suffering from-the fact that she was technically working two jobs obviously couldn't be revealed to him. There was no hot water in her flat, no matter how many heating charms she attempted. Overall, she was cold, tired, and miserable. Tonks hadn't had any intention of hiding away in one of the spare rooms at Grimmauld Place. But the Order meeting that night had felt so rushed, and the details had been entirely too grim.

It was Remus who found her. He said he'd been afraid it was one of the children, injured or scared. He didn't judge her. He barely even spoke. Instead, he knelt at her side, sliding his arms tightly around her. It was against her better judgment, but she leaned into him, clutching his jumper between her fingers and burying her sobs in his shoulder until they were merely whimpers. It was only then that he spoke, and it was to reassure her that he could certainly keep the moment between the two of them.

As they'd grown closer, she found herself leaning more on him, letting him in to the piece of her that she ordinarily refused to show the world. He was easy to lean on. He'd been through a hell of his own, and still didn't hesitate to hold her when even the minor things began to get to her. Tonks found herself able to cry more easily, letting go when she needed it.

She returned the favour not long after. Sirius was gone, and though she'd grown to love her older cousin, she knew it couldn't quite compare to the loss that Remus was feeling. Everyone, everything that mattered to him seemed to be constantly torn from his life. He'd only just gotten Sirius back, and he was gone again. Tonks knew. She knew the ache he was feeling. The emptiness, the loneliness, the hurt. When he didn't eat for the third day in a row, it was she who went up to him.

And just as he'd once done for her, she knelt at his side, sliding her arms around his shaking form. His head bent, resting on top of hers as he cried. Gently she reached up, brushing the tears from his cheeks. She didn't speak. No words were necessary. She only cried with him, letting him cling to her as if she were the only thing he had left. It was then that she knew she loved him. Even if shortly, she'd have to let him go, she'd fallen in love with the only man who had ever seen her cry.